A Poison Narcissa
by Alex the Anachronistic
Summary: Post HBP. Severus Snape has nothing to do the night after he killed Albus except sit in a barn and think about one Very Lovely Lady who wanted him. Angsty.


DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off of this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, etc. J.K.R. does. But I do have some of my own original characters in here. Please don't take these! However, if you do, I can't see what I can do about it. Just refrain, please?

Poisonous Narcissa

It was the morning after he had so disastrously killed Albus Dumbledore and fled from Hogwarts forever.

Snape woke up in his rumpled bed, extremely shaken, slightly bemused, and extremely shaken. At first he couldn't remember why he was in this dark, unfamiliar loft, sleeping on a bed of golden, crackling hay. He sat up and bumped his head on a beam protruding from the slanted ceiling.

"Oh, dmntion!" he ejaculated, rubbing his head. He rubbed his forehead with one hand where he had bumped it, at the same time wiping the sleep out of his eyes with the other. A crack of bright morning--or was it afternoon?--light strained through a gap in the wall, casting a warm glow over the glistening hay. Snape bent back his fingers, cracking them, and got up as best as he could in the cramped loft.

Why was he here, in this random Muggle barn? Well, he couldn't possibly go back to Spinner's End. He was a marked man now. The Order wouldn't be so foolish as to not guard the place day and night, lest he come back. And there was no chance of the Dark Lord casually putting him up for the night.

And he wasn't about to go and sleep anywhere near where the Malfoys, whom he had saved and dropped off somewhere in the Amazonian rainforest, were. Not after what had happened last night…especially after what had happened between him and Narcissa…

flashback

Narcissa Malfoy sat, in her dressing room, in a scarlet silk but very revealing negligee and matching dressing gown, sipping tea with apparent agitation. (At this moment, Snape was preoccupied with reporting to the Dark Lord, informing that his evil deed was done and Draco and his mother perished. He had left Draco in a Muggle ice-cream shop temporarily while he did so, but all this is beside the point.) Anyhow, Narcissa was leafing idly through a fashion magazine, too nervous to settle down to actually read an article. After accidentally dropping her spoon for the third time, she threw the magazine down angrily and thumped her cup and saucer on the table. Then she stood, and, unconsciously, began to pace the length of the room. She only hoped that nothing tonight would go wrong, that, as he had promised, Snape would bring Draco home as soon as their work was done, that nothing would hinder them from the task at hand. She was not proud that the Dark Lord had asked her son to commit a very well fatal task, despite its importance. Indeed, she was disturbed out of her mind. Realizing that she had begun to pace back and forth, she directed herself down again and subsided to tears. Oh, if only everything would go all right…she remained in this state for, perhaps, half an hour.

Suddenly, the door leading onto the closed-in balcony flew open. Snape strode in unabashedly with a determined look on his face, practically dragging a hysteric Draco.

"He'll kill me is all!" wailed the boy, grasping Snape's arm as though it were a holy relic.

"He won't, foolish boy!" growled Snape, shaking Draco off. "The task was fulfilled; he shall have no reason to want to murder you." Despite his nature, though, Narcissa saw that Snape himself was trembling. Whether from wrath or fear she couldn't tell. She herself jumped up and ran to her son, who was kneeling on the floor with his face in his hands.

"Draco, Draco, what happened?" Tenderly, she drew her arms around him. Angrily, Draco shoved her off of him and began to cry to himself.

"Off of me, woman!" he sobbed.

Snape, at this, angrily slapped Draco on the cheek. This caught the boy's attention, and he stopped blubbering. Snape kneeled down to his level, put a hand on his shoulder, and stared deeply into Draco's eyes.

"NEVER," he said solemnly, "talk to your mother that way. That is something called 'disrespect.' It is usually frowned upon in most societies." With that, Snape stood up again.

"Go and pack a single bag full of necessary items you might need for one month. Now. And before you ask," he added, anticipating Draco's opening mouth, "Yes, only ONE bag. Now be off with you."

Draco nodded stiffly and raced out of the room, leaving Narcissa and Severus alone.

Narcissa sighed.

"I don't know why he hates me so," she mused contemplatively.

Snape nodded.

"It's just a phase; everyone goes through it at one time or another."

Narcissa laughed feebly.

"I know now how my mother felt rearing me." She smiled a little.

Looking at her now, Snape could see why so many men envied Lucius Malfoy for his wife. She had once been an extremely good-looking piece, but now she gave off the effect of something no longer in its prime despite her soft brown hair falling, permed and perfect, over her nearly bare pale shoulders. Her brown eyes were large and well-placed, and her nose just perfectly upturned at the end to be a little saucy. Despite the fact that she was no longer in the prime of life, and about thirty-five to forty years old, she still looked fresh as a rose. Her untied dressing-gown had slipped down over her shoulders due to its smooth quality, and she made no motion to rectify it. She stepped closer to him, looking deeply into his eyes.

"What happened? Why was he so upset?"

Snape stared at her coldly.

"He failed in his mission."

Narcissa's eyes opened wide.

"So Dumbledore is not dead?"

Snape shook his head, never letting his eyes move from her face, watching her intently.

"Oh yes, he's dead. But I had to…to do it. Draco couldn't bring himself to."

Narcissa stepped closer.

"But then, he's all right, isn't he? I mean, as long as the task is done, the Dark Lord will never know who did it."

Snape shook his head again.

"No. He will learn from Bellatrix and the rest of them. They were observing the event."

Narcissa stepped closer. Where she was now, she could just reach out and touch him if she wanted to. Snape felt uncomfortable with her so close, but he didn't move.

"But at least you helped him as much as you could?

Snape nodded yes. Suddenly, Narcissa took one last step forward and threw her arms around his neck.

"You could be so handsome, you know, if you just trimmed those locks of yours."

This was an obvious turn off of the subject. Snape felt her warm, sweet breath on his cheek, and his body went as rigid as a board. However, even as her right hand began to slip down from his shoulder to his waist, she seemed not to sense his discomfort.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked harshly, trying to show her without being very brusque that he was not interested in her.

"Thanking you…properly," sighed Narcissa, and slowly leaned in closer and raised her head. Soon their lips were almost touching, and Narcissa was breathing heavily from her neck being in a constricting position. Snape felt very awkward. As gently as he could, he pushed her away.

"Just because your husband is temporarily locked away in Azkaban doesn't mean he doesn't exist, MRS. Malfoy."

Persistently, she leaned in again.

"He'll never know if we never tell him," she cooed.

This time Snape pushed her away more firmly.

"Madam, infidelity is one of the most horrible sins. I do not wish to be the cause of your crime."

He felt very odd saying this, since he had just supposedly committed murder, the foulest crime of all. At any rate, Narcissa seemed oblivious to his unwillingness. She interpreted it to be concern for her. Vain creature! She abruptly grabbed him around the waist and they both collapsed on the bed. Immediately, he stood up again, fire in his eyes. She sat up, gazing at him with a look of bewilderment. Slowly, she began again.

"I…I think I know the root of your reluctance," she spoke softly. "Is it because of another woman?"

Snape shook his head disdainfully.

"I simply have no desire to-" he began to say, but Narcissa interrupted.

"Oh! I know, you've never done this before. You're a virg-" This time Snape interrupted her.

"No," he declared vehemently. Realizing what he was saying 'no' to, though he quickly corrected, "I mean, yes, I am, but-" Narcissa interrupted again. Now she stood and put one arm around his neck.

"You poor thing! And you're already well into middle age, too!" Again, she dragged him down onto the bed, on top of her.

"You should have had your first fling a long time ago" she said matter-of-factly.

Snape again stood up. He was to be pitied; he was having a hard time with this.

"I must apologize MRS. Malfoy," he repeated, again stressing the 'Mrs.' on purpose. "I am not wanting at all to do this-" Again, Narcissa interrupted.

"Of course you don't darling, you've never done it before. It's natural to be uneasy at first."

"I suggest you wait to 'do it' until your husband gets out of prison, madam. If at all he should-" Narcissa interrupted yet again.

"Oh pschaw! Wait until he gets home? I'll die from lonesomeness. And even when he is home, Lucius is getting weary of this sort of thing. Besides, he's getting a little too much stomach for it to be much enjoyment anymore," she added, surveying Snape's slight physique and very tight waist with an appraising glance, looking like a vulture watching her prey. Feeling even more uncomfortable with this glance than the whole rest of her shenanigans, Snape crossed his arms and stood, erect and strong.

"What I am saying MRS. Malfoy," he began, but he was interrupted again by Narcissa.

"Of course I-"

"Now don't interrupt ME, Mrs. Malfoy," he demanded, as though he were reprimanding Hermione Granger, and this shut her up. "Thank you. Now what I've been trying to say for the last ten minutes is that NO, I am not interested in you. You are a very beautiful woman, and I will grant you that, but I am NOT looking for a female spouse, or otherwise, for that matter, in you or in any other woman. The only reason I'm not leaving now, after this extremely uncomfortable episode, is because I have to take you both into hiding, or I will have both of your deaths on my conscience. So, I am taking you and your son somewhere that no one, including the Dark Lord, will be able to find you. Speaking of hiding, you had better do the same as Draco, and pack a single bag with certain necessities for perhaps a month."

And with this air of dismissal, Snape turned and stalked out onto the balcony.

Wordlessly, and with a rejected air, Narcissa stood, and went about packing clothes and such. A moment later, Draco knocked on the door and asked if he could come in. Narcissa assented, and her son entered, looking very worn and weak. After placing gently a few more things in the bag until it was stuffed full, Narcissa carried her bag and her son's out onto the balcony where Snape stood, glaring at the stars. She put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Severus. I hope I didn't offend you."

He shook his head.

"On quite the contrary, I'm very flattered. It was the first time ever anyone…tried…to..." He broke off, his voice constricting noticeably.

Narcissa nodded, and withdrew her hand from his shoulder gently.

"So, shall we go?" she queried carefully.

As an answer, Snape grasped her hand and Draco's, and in a moment, they had disapparated directly from the porch.

end of flashback

That was the main reason Snape was glad to be away from the Malfoys. But, even as he thought this, a small smile crept on his face in the dank darkness of the loft. Well, at least now he could say that _someone_ had tried, at least _someone_ had said that they even remotely liked him. Even if it was, after all, he pondered, only a poisonous Narcissa Malfoy.


End file.
